


A Blessing Inked Beneath Your Skin

by Angel Ascending (angel_in_ink)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Blood, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gods, Kissing, Magical Tattoos, Spoilers for Episode 73 of Campaign 2, Tattoos, Very Temporary Character Death, only a little angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 12:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20192533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel_in_ink/pseuds/Angel%20Ascending
Summary: "I was wondering if, well, if you could— I would like a tattoo.”Jester stops dead in the street in surprise. “Really?!” Her voice is an excited squeak, and several dwarves and elves stop to stare at her, but she doesn’t care. “Oh my gosh, this is great! What do you want it to be of? I could do flowers or donuts or stars or donuts with sprinkles or hearts or—““Well I—““And where do you want it? You should get it on your bicep, that would be cool, or maybe on your chest or something. Do you want it done now or should we wait until we have some powdered gems so I can make it all magical? What colors do you want? I only have black ink at the moment but I can make other colors!” She’s aware she’s bouncing a bit, her tail whipping back and forth in excitement, but she doesn’t care. Fjord wants a tattoo! Fjord wants her to tattoo him!





	A Blessing Inked Beneath Your Skin

“Jester, can I ask you something?” Fjord’s speaking voice is only a touch louder when he’s not doing Vandren’s accent, but Jester is grateful for the extra volume. They’re on their way to the Softer Stoneforge bakery, because Jester is going to take full advantage of cupcakes while she can get them, and technincally she’s also running an errand for Caduceus. The streets are busy enough that Fjord’s old voice might possibly have gotten lost in the noise of the crowd.

“Sure Fjord!” She smiles at him and he smiles back, tusks rising gently over his lower lip. It’s only been days since he stopped using Vandren’s accent and copying his mannerisms, and Jester is still relearning what truly was Fjord and what had been part of the mask he’d been using to hide behind. She suddenly remembers how much he had smiled in those first few weeks when they had first met versus these months traveling with the whole group. Not just smiling, actually, but showing more feelings in general. His face really _is_ expressive when he’s not trying to be stoic, and she can see glimpses of what he is feeling now, how he’s smiling because he’s happy but also his eyebrows are doing that thing and he’s getting that forehead wrinkle he gets when he’s worried about something. “You can ask me anything!”

Fjord’s chuckle is a rich, rolling thing, not the huff of a laugh she had grown used to. “Duly noted. I was wondering if, well, if you could— I would like a tattoo.”

Jester stops dead in the street in surprise. “Really?!” Her voice is an excited squeak, and several dwarves and elves stop to stare at her, but she doesn’t care. “Oh my gosh, this is great! What do you want it to be of? I could do flowers or donuts or stars or donuts with sprinkles or hearts or—“

“Well I—“

“And where do you want it? You should get it on your bicep, that would be cool, or maybe on your chest or something. Do you want it done _now_ or should we wait until we have some powdered gems so I can make it all magical? What colors do you want? I only have black ink at the moment but I can make other colors!” She’s aware she’s bouncing a bit, her tail whipping back and forth in excitement, but she doesn’t care. Fjord wants a tattoo! Fjord wants _her_ to tattoo him!

“Can you tattoo over scars?” One of Fjord’s hands drifts almost absently towards his chest before falling away.

Jester’s bouncing slows a bit. She doesn’t remember Fjord having any scars on his chest, not that she’d been _looking_ recently or anything, but it wasn’t like something wasn’t trying to slice them or chew them up on a regular basis. “I don’t see why not,” is what she says, wondering what’s underneath his armor now, and not in the usual sexy way she sometimes does before bed. “What is it that you want?”

Fjord runs a hand through his hair, suddenly unable to meet her eyes. “Well, it’s kind of complicated, and I’ll understand if you can’t do it, or if you don’t want to, or—“

“Fjooooooooord!” He’s just working himself up now, already half-convinced she won’t do it. “Just tell me!”

His eyes meet hers. “The holy symbol of the Wildmother.”

Oh. _Oh._

“I think I saw it when we were at the Kiln,” Fjord continues, and he holds out his hand like he used to do when summoning an illusion, then frowns at it. “Right. Well, it’s sort of—“ he sketches out the shapes in his scarred palm. “There’s a wreath, and vines and berries, and a crook going down the middle.”

Jester tilts her head, imagining what Fjord is describing. That _does_ sound complicated, at least, more complicated than anything she’s ever tattooed before.

“It’s all right if you don’t want to—“ Fjord starts saying again, but Jester cuts him off.

“I _want_ to,” she says firmly. “But I think maybe it’s going to take awhile for me to prepare. I wouldn’t want to mess it up or anything, especially since it’s going to be on you _forever _and all.”

She watches as Fjord visibly relaxes and gives her a relieved smile. “I wasn’t sure you would want to. I mean, I know you don’t think terribly highly of—other gods.”

“Oh _that._” Jester waves a hand dismissively. “I mean, the Traveler _is_ the coolest god, no offense or anything, that’s just a fact. But the Wildmother is really cool too! She helped me save Caduceus, and she’s been helping you out and everything. Plus she’s a _mom._ Moms are pretty great.”

Fjord’s face does something complicated, and too late Jester remembers that Fjord never got to know his own mom.

“C’mon,” Jester says, pulling gently on Fjord’s arm, hoping to distract him. “You know, it’s a good thing you came with me today.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I’m going to need _twice_ as many cupcakes now if I’m designing a tattoo, and I’m going to need help carrying them. Sugar is part of my creative process.”

Fjord laughs like she intended, and Jester smiles to herself as she starts planning out what she has to do next. Mission give Fjord an awesome tattoo was underway!

————

While the others had gone out on various errands around the city, Caduceus had gone back upstairs to the room he was sharing with the rest of the boys, saying he needed a little time to himself. A few innuendos had been thrown around the table when Caduceus had said that, but Jester thinks she knows what’s really going on. It isn’t like Caduceus doesn’t _like_ meeting new people and being in a group and running around doing stuff, she can tell that he really enjoys it when it’s happening, but it seems to wear him out, and then he has to go have a nap or meditate or garden for a little bit by himself. He reminds her of Caleb in that way, who usually spends several hours being quiet and petting Frumpkin after a busy day of socializing.

Jester balances the box of cupcakes on one arm and knocks gently on the door to the room, hoping she isn’t interrupting the firbolg in the middle of a nap. “Caduceus, I have that thing you asked for, and a favor to ask you, and also a cupcake.”

There’s shuffling from the other side of the door, and then it opens to reveal Caduceus, dressed in a long linen robe, his pink hair a bit sleep tangled. He smiles at her, blinking slowly. “That’s a lot of things.”

“It is!” Jester replies. “But if you want to go back to sleep, the favor can wait a little.”

Caduceus shakes his head. “It’d be a shame to sleep the day away. Come in.”

Jester does, immediately holding out the box of cupcakes to him as soon as closes the door. “Eat. You can’t just live off of breakfast garnish fungus and magically created food.” She hadn’t ever thought about how many things had meat in them or were cooked in animal fat until Caduceus had started traveling with them. “I mean, you _can_ I guess, but it’s not as good as cupcakes. I bought more of the black moss ones just for you.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that.” Caduceus picks out a black moss cupcake from the assortment and sits down on the floor on the bedroll and blankets he had been sleeping on before she had come in. “Would you like some tea?”

“Of course! Oh, and here, before I forget.” Jester pulls a pouch from her belt. “The baker was more than happy to give me some black moss when I asked her for it, since I am such a great customer and all.”

Caduceus’s face lights up as he finishes filling the teakettle, water magically flowing from one his hands. “Oh that’s great, thank you for getting that for me.” He puts the kettle on his small tripod and retrieves his staff, setting the water to boil with a word and a tap from the crystal. The staff of withering isn’t nearly as cool as Caduceus’s old staff, in Jester’s opinion, as it’s lacking in holes for bugs to live in. However, the wood is filled with cracks and shallow crevices, and Caduceus tucks his newly acquired moss into several of them. Jester notices there is some familiar looking green fungus on the staff as well, it looks like Caduceus hasn’t been eating _all _of the breakfast garnish. “There you go, a new place for you to live. When we get back home they’ll be a tree you can grow on too, if you’d like.” Caduceus gives the moss a gentle pat before placing the staff back down and focusing on making tea. “You wanted to ask me something?”

“I was just wondering if I could see your holy symbol for a little bit? Fjord saw it when we were at the Kiln and he wants a tattoo of it, and he _tried_ to describe what it looks like, but it’d be better if I could actually see it, and I don’t want to wait until we’re back at the Kiln. I want to get it _right_, which means I want some practice drawing it at least.”

“A tattoo,” Caduceus says thoughtfully as he hands Jester her tea. “He’s really serious about this, isn’t he?” His smile is one of utter contentment and pleasure, though that might be because he’s actually started eating the cupcake Jester brought him. Caduceus likes his sweets to be, well, less on the sweet side than Jester does.

“He _really _is,” Jester agrees. “Do you think the Wildmother is going to, you know, choose him to be her cleric? Then we’d have _three _clerics. That seems like, kind of a lot.” Though maybe if Fjord became a cleric, _she_ could spend more time hurting enemies _before_ they hurt everyone else, while Fjord and Caduceus took care of actually healing people. That wouldn’t be so bad at all.

Caduceus chuckles. “Considering the things we run into, sometimes I wonder if just the two of us are enough. But there are many ways to serve the Wildmother, and Fjord will find them I’m sure, if he keeps walking down the path he’s on. He’s made some good first steps.” He finishes his cupcake and reaches under his shirt to pull his holy symbol from around his neck, only to have the cord get tangled up in his hair.

A few minutes of detangling later, and Jester is holding Caduceus’s holy symbol in her hand. It’s warm from being next to his skin, or maybe all holy symbols radiate a little bit of divine warmth, Jester isn’t sure. She shouldn’t be surprised that the vines growing up the crook and around the wreath of wheat are a real, living plant, but she is, and she brushes the little red berries gently as she studies it. She’s not worried that she can’t draw it, drawing it will be the easy part. Tattooing it though, she’s never done something that complicated before. What if she can’t? What if she tries and she messes it up? Was there a way to practice tattooing without _actually_ tattooing someone?

A warm hand settles over hers, and Jester looks up into Caduceus’s gently smiling face. “Hey. It’s going to be okay. You’ll figure it out. I have faith.”

“Oh yeah, no, it’ll be fine!” Jester puts on a smile to mask her worried frown. Caduceus is probably right. Probably. And she’ll never figure out if she can do it if she doesn’t at least _try._ She reaches for her sketchbook and two more cupcakes, one for her and one for Caduceus. “Thank you! This shouldn’t take long to draw, I’ll give it right back!”

Caduceus just smiles and takes a bite of cupcake. “Take all the time you need.”

———————————

Jester shows Fjord her sketch after dinner, when the others have all gone back upstairs.

“This is what you were thinking of, right? I copied it from Caduceus’s holy symbol.”

Fjord looks at the page for a long time, long enough where Jester starts to get nervous. “Fjord? Are you okay?”

Fjord blinks and shakes his head a little, as if to clear it. “Oh, yeah, no, I’m fine, it’s just—“ He reaches out a hand as if to touch the drawing, then pulls back as if he’s afraid the ink is still wet or something. “It’s perfect, Jester.”

“Well I don’t know about _perfect_,” Jester says. “It does look pretty good though.”

“How soon do you think you can do it?” He looks up from the drawing, his eyes full of hope. “I don’t mean to rush you or anything.”

“Well, we should probably wait until _after_ we find the white dragon we need to breathe on that mithril,” Jester says. There were rumors of an adult dragon living in the mountains nearby, and it was _possible_ that they could maybe convince it to just breathe on their mithril without anyone having to attack anyone else, but the group was leaving in the morning preparing for a fight regardless. “I mean, it’ll probably take a while for the sword to be fixed afterwards, so we’ll have some down time. And maybe the dragon will have some gems I can use to make magical ink!”

“Did Orly ever actually teach you how to do that?”

“Well no, but he said if we ever had the gem dust that he would! And Caleb can get us back to Nicodranas super quick! Nott can visit her family and I can see my momma and Orly can teach me how to make magic ink and _then_ I can do your tattoo, though I wish I could practice it somehow first before I do it for real.” As soon as she says the words, the idea comes to her, and she does the quick mental preparation she use to cast the spell to send messages, picturing Orly in her mind. “Orly! It’s me, Jester! Is there a way to practice tattoos without having to actually tattoo a person? Also how are you?”

There’s a long pause, and when Orly answers her, he sounds amused. “Jester! It’s been—a while. Doing—just fine. If you have any pig skin, that w-w-would be best for practicing. Or some fruit.”

Pig skin or fruit. Well, surely at least _one_ of those things might be easily found in the kitchen or at the local butcher. Jester casts the spell again. “Thank you sooo much! Oh, I might be in town soon, are you out sailing at the moment or will you be around?”

“W-w-we’re docked —for the m-moment. Should be here— for a little while at least. Ship n-needed a few repairs. Tell the Captain— I said hello.”

“Orly says hi,” Jester relays. “And everything is fine and the boat needed a few repairs, so they’re in town, and that I can practice tattooing on pig skin or fruit.”

“Fruit? Like an apple or something?”

Jester shrugs. “He didn’t say specifically, but I guess so?” She looks at the design in her sketchbook again. “So what kind of magic would you want your tattoo to have, if we find any gems?”

“Is there any that enhances strength?” Fjord gives Jester a little half smile. “If I’m going to be actually _using_ my new sword, a little extra strength would be nice.”

“That’s rubies—I think. Beau wrote it down. I’ll ask her.” Jester goes to get up from the table, but Fjord stops her with a gentle hand on her arm.

“Jester. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Jester says with a nervous laugh. “I mean, I haven’t even done the tattoo yet, maybe it’ll turn out awful or something.”

“I highly doubt that,” Fjord says with a gentle smile. “I only asked you about it this morning, and already you’re doing so much to make sure it’ll look the way it’s supposed to. I just wanted to let you know I appreciate the effort.”

The kiss to her cheek is soft and fleeting, and yet Jester is so flustered by it that by the time she gathers her thoughts enough to say, “you’re welcome,” Fjord is already gone. She’s halfway up the stairs before remembering she was going to ask the cook if they had any fruit or pig skin and then she’s rushing back down to ask, then back upstairs to ask Beau if she still had her notes about magical tattoos, then back down the stairs to run to the butcher’s shop before they close. A few hours later she crawls into bed, her cheek still warm from Fjord’s kiss and a half-tattooed apple on the table next to her open sketchbook.

————

Jester doesn’t have Caleb’s time sense, and they’re underground on top of all that, but Jester feels like it’s early when she wakes up. Beau is squashed between her and the wall, snoring like she does, and Nott is curled at the foot of the bed in a way that reminds Jester of Frumpkin. There are faint breakfast smells coming from downstairs, but no one has come to knock on her door yet, so the boys probably aren’t up. Jester smiles and closes her eyes, allowing herself a few more sleepy minutes.

“_Well isn’t this interesting?”_

Jester eyes snap open. The Traveler is standing by the room’s tiny desk, her tattoo practice apple in his hand as he looks down at her open sketchbook. She quickly gets out of bed, two steps taking her to the Traveler’s side, and she wonders for a moment if she’s in trouble somehow. With that thought comes the realization that even if the Traveler isn’t happy about what she’s going to do that she’s going to do it _anyway_, because it’s _important_, makes her heart race. She’s _never_ thought about going against something the Traveler said before, never mind that he hasn’t actually disapproved _yet._

“Fjord wants me to tattoo him,” Jester says quietly, her voice shaking only a little.

The Traveler chuckles and tosses the apple idly into the air, catching it deftly with one hand. “_My favorite cleric tattooing the symbol of a god not her own on the former follower of a snake that dreams itself a god.” _He turns to her then, placing the apple on the table and reaching out to cup her cheek. His smile is the only part of his face that she can see underneath the hood of his robe, white teeth bright against the darkness. _“My Jester, you are full of surprises.”_

The Traveler’s approval is a tangible warmth that spreads through her, leaving her shaky with relief. “Yup, I sure am! Full of surprises, that’s me.”

“_Indeed. My delightful little agent of chaos. What fun we shall all have come summer.”_

Summer. Oh right! “So I went and checked out the Kiln, and it’s _totally_ not going to work out for gathering a bunch of people at. There’s not a lot of room at _all_, and the place is surrounded by wolves and huge worm things, and also ghosts, though the ghosts weren’t that bad actually, just kinda sad. Rumblecusp would be much better, probably.”

The Traveler chuckles again. “_Then Rumblecusp it will be. I look forward to it.”_

“Me too!” Jester turns to reach for the box of cupcakes on the desk. “Would you like a cupcake?”

“Jester?” Beau’s sleepy and slightly grumpy voice causes Jester to look over her shoulder. “Who are you talking to?”

“The Traveler.” Jester looks back to where the Traveler had been standing but he’s gone now, and when she looks down at the cupcake box in her hands she realizes that he took the last blueberry cupcake with him. “Oh shoot, you just missed him.”

“Mmmmhmmm, that’s great,” Beau mumbles, already half asleep again.

Jester smiles and turns to a new page in her sketchbook. She needs to pick out her spells for the day and then she needs to go to the bakery. Caleb’s grown very fond of blueberry cupcakes.

————————

_Ice. Ice all around her and Jester shivers with cold as she moves through the labyrinth of rock and ice. The cold has never bothered her really, but this cold is different. This cold gets down into her blood and her bones and makes it hard to run, and she _ ** _has_ ** _ to run, because she has to find—something. She has to find something (the heart of the labyrinth the heart of the dragon’s lair her _ ** _heart_ ** _) and she has to find it _ ** _fast_ ** _ because-_

_She slams into something cold and hard and cries out, feet slipping out from under her and she’s down on the ground and she has to get up has to keep moving and then she looks up to see what had been in her way and feels her breath freeze in her throat, hard and sharp._

_Fjord stares out from the ice, hands up as if to ward off a blow, mithril shining in his grip as his green skin shines though the ice, green going blue and white and there’s red, so much red, too much red and her breath thaws and she screams and screams as the ice bleeds, as Fjord bleeds, as Fjord—_

“Jester?” Fjord’s voice is a weak whisper, but it cuts through Jester’s dreams and brings her back to consciousness so suddenly that she gasps, eyes wide. For a moment all she can see is white, just like ice and snow and dragon scales, and she panics for a second before she realizes that she’s looking at bedsheets and that her back hurts from sleeping all weird in her chair and Fjord is _awake—_

“Fjord!” It’s a squeak as Jester sits up only to almost half fall on Fjord to hug him.

“Was it just me? Is everyone else all right?”

Jester thinks about Beau, her fists coated in ice, her fingers so frost burned that even magic hadn’t healed them completely on the first try and there had been a concern that she was going to lose them. About Nott, who had been firing her crossbow with one hand while the other had dangled uselessly at her side after being slammed into a wall. About Caleb, whose fireball had merged with Jester’s divine bolt of magic to finally kill the dragon and how they had both been screaming while they had done it. “Everyone else is fine,” Jester mumbles into his shoulder, because Beau and Nott are fine _now_, everything is fine _now._

“I died,” Fjord says wonderingly, and it isn’t a question.

Jester doesn’t want to remember that. How Caduceus had been unconscious and unable to help. About how her feet had been frozen to the cave floor, how she had clawed at the ice and screamed as the seconds bled away, as Fjord’s life had bled away into the ice he had been encased in. But then—but then—

_Nott’s the one who pours the healing potion down Caduceus’s throat, uncorking the bottle with her teeth. Caleb is looking down at his hands, then at Fjord’s frozen body._

_“I don’t want to hurt him,” Caleb whispers, his voice raw. “I could kill him, I don’t want to kill him, I—“_

_Jester sees Caleb’s eyes going far away and distant and she slaps him, like Molly had slapped him what seems like an age ago. “Caleb! I can help him! Melt the ice around my feet!” More seconds falling away. Is Fjord dead already? Do they have even less time now?_

_Caleb looks into her eyes and there’s something about his expression, something so tender and vulnerable and _ ** _lost._ ** _ “I don’t want to hurt you, Jester.”_

_“CALEB PLEASE,” she yells as her vision goes blurry with tears._

_Caleb seems to recoil at her shout, backing up several feet, looking around wildly. She doesn’t realize what he’s doing until he mutters something, his hands splayed out in front of him, thumbs and first fingers touching, aiming close to the ground. The edge of the flames rolls over her feet and the ice bursts into steam and it _ ** _hurts_ ** _ and she doesn’t care, she’s already stumbling forward, already praying, magic gathering in her hand as she slaps her palm into the ice covering Fjord’s chest._

_“Who’s down?” Jester hears Caduceus say, but she can’t answer him._

_Underneath her hand, Jester feels the magic falter, feels it fail. Is it too late? Is the ice just not allowing the magic to get to him? She fumbles for the diamond in her pouch, wondering if it’s too late for this as well. She can’t scream anymore, all she can do is whisper. “Oh no, oh no, oh please—“_

_Caduceus is next to her suddenly, and she watches as he puts one hand on Fjord’s frozen shoulder and the other hand over Jester’s own._

_“Please,” Caduceus says softly. His eyes are glowing like honey in sunlight. “Please Mother, we need your warmth now.”_

_Sunlight answers Caduceus’s prayer, impossible sunlight that shines down as if the solid rock of the cave was nothing but blue sky, bringing warmth with it like the first true day of spring. One moment there is ice, and then there is only Fjord, eyes open and unseeing, falling to the ground._

_Jester falls with him, knees hitting cold water and ice and stone as she takes her other hand and slams the diamond against Fjord’s chest._

_(She will see the bruise later, the bruise and the scar in the place that a tattoo should be.)_

_The sunlight glitters off a thousand fragments of diamonds as it shatters, and for a moment Jester sees the Wildmother, sees her bend down to give Fjord her blessing with a kiss to the forehead, sees those eyes filled with infinite love and she understands why Fjord has chosen to bear her mark._

_Then the sunlight is gone and Fjord is breathing again. His eyes aren’t open but he’s _ ** _breathing_ ** _, and it’s the best sound Jester has ever heard in her life._

_“_Don’t do it again,” Jester admonishes. “No more dying. It’s forbidden. I forbid it.”

Fjord moves slightly, and suddenly she can feel his fingers moving through her hair, very gently. “I’ll try _very_ hard not to. I promise.”

——————

Three days later, Jester is back in Nicodranas, practically dancing through the streets, her face turned up towards the sun. They had stayed in Uthodurn for a whole day after Fjord had woken up before escorting  Umagorn Smeltborne back with them to the Kiln, where the work of reforging the sword could begin. It was going to take more than a few days, which gave Jester enough time for a trip back home. Caduceus and Fjord had stayed behind, both of them interested in watching the preparations for the reforging of the sword, but Beau and Nott had been more than happy to come, and of course Caleb was with them.

“I just want to lay on the sand and enjoy being _warm_,” Beau says, slowly clenching and unclenching her hands into fists. She’d barely been able to move her fingers at all after they had first been healed, but the stiffness in her joints seems to be getting better with each passing day, at least as far as Jester can tell.

“I would join you in that, I think,” Caleb says. “Though I would like to visit a bookstore first.”

“I just want to see my son and my husband,” Nott says. “Though I can only do that for about four hours, I suppose.” She gestures at her halfling self.

“I can help you with that,” Caleb reminds Nott. “I turned Beau into a tiefling back in the City of Beasts, remember?”

“That was pretty dope,” Beau says with a grin.

“Yes. Dope.” Caleb deadpans. “But anyway, I can help you with your disguise for about three hours, which brings the total to seven.”

“We need one of those rings like Dairon has, the one that lets her be a drow. I wonder if that’s like, an Expositor thing? Could I requisition one? Or fuck, you guys, we got so much platinum and gems from the dragon hoard that we could probably just _buy_ one.”

“You don’t have to come with me to visit Orly,” Jester manages to say as the Lavish Chateau comes into sight. “I mean, you have other things to do and all.”

“If you don’t mind,” Caleb and Nott say together, but Beau shakes her head.

“Oh, I’m _definitely _coming with you,” Beau says, and she pats her traveling bag. “I didn’t get those black opals we found crushed for nothing. I’m not leaving Nicodranas without a tattoo! But there’d be time afterwards to just lay on the beach, right?” She looks at Jester hopefully.

“Of course!” Jester cocks her head in thought. “Which thing do the black opals do?”

Beau looks down at her hands, gently flexing them again. “It’s supposed to help with cold resistance. I was thinking about stars, or maybe snowflakes, like right here?” She reaches around and waves a hand to indicate her upper back.

“That’d be really—_cool_,” Nott says, and they all laugh the somewhat strained laughter of people who have been through a lot in a short amount of time.

The Lavish Chateau is doing a decent mid-afternoon business when they arrive, and it shouldn’t surprise Jester when Blude intercepts her before she can make it to her mother’s apartments. This time at least he seems to remember her disguise right away.

“I’m sorry, Miss Jester,” Blude says after looking around to make sure no one else is listening. “Your mother managed to cancel her evening appointments with minimal fuss, but it was a bit of short notice to do the same with her afternoon ones. She’s in the middle of entertaining someone at the moment, but she said to tell you that she’ll be available by sunset.”

“Oh, that’s all right,” Jester says, trying not to sound disappointed. It was her own fault for forgetting to message her momma until last night. She had _meant_ to do it earlier, but she hadn’t been sleeping well since the dragon fight and had spent most of her waking hours distracted. “I was heading back out anyway, I was just hoping to give her a hug first. I’ll be back for dinner for sure.”

Jester turns and walks down the hall, a smile masking her disappointment, and finds the rooms Luc and Yeza are occupying from the sounds of happy family reunions and Nugget barking.

“Mom! You’re back already! Did you bring me anything? Did you shoot anything cool?” Jester watches as Luc throws himself into Veth’s arms, Yeza smiling almost shyly beside his wife while Nugget dances around them, barking. None of them have noticed her.

“We fought a huge worm, and then an even bigger worm, and then a white dragon!” Nott says this all in an exaggerated, excited way, as if it hadn’t been terrifying. “I brought one of the dragon scales just for you!”

Jester turns away, trying not to shiver.

—————

“Jester, are you okay? You’ve been kind of quiet.”

Jester forces a smile, an expression that becomes a little less forced when she looks at Beau, who’s dressed in the same red dress as last time, her big floppy sun hat nearly providing enough shade for both of them. “Oh I’m fine. Just tired, you know.”

“Hmmm.”

They walk in silence for a few minutes as Jester tries desperately to be in the moment, to enjoy the sunlight and warmth and the smell of salt on the breeze.

“We got out all right,” Beau says quietly.

“We almost didn’t,” Jester says, not looking at Beau.

“I know. Believe me, I know. But you can’t dwell on the ‘almosts’, otherwise they’ll just sit there, eating into your thoughts, not letting you enjoy anything. Life’s too— it’s too fucking short for that.” Beau puts an arm around her, warm from the sun. “Today is about learning how to make magical tattoo ink so you can give us all sweet tattoos.” She grins. “You’re going to help with the one on my back, right?”

“Well of _course_,” Jester says, feeling her mood lift slightly. “I am _very_ good at making stars.” She looks down towards the docks where the _Ball Eater _and Orly are waiting, and then back at Beau. “Hey, can we stop somewhere on the way?"

It doesn’t take long to reach the Mother’s Lighthouse, and for a long moment they both just stare up at it,

“Are you going to ask if you can sleep in the boob again?” Beau asks, but Jester shakes her head.

“No, I—“ Jester shakes her head and pulls a few coins out of her belt pouch and places them on one of the cracked and weathered offering plates before looking back up at the lighthouse. “Listen, this isn’t a prayer, okay? I already have a god, and he’s super great. But it’d be rude not to say thank you when you’ve been helping us and everything. So. Thank you. Thank you for helping me help my friends.”

When Jester turns around, Beau has a small little smile on her face. “What?”

“You’re full of surprises, that’s all. It’s—“ Suddenly Beau jerks her head up, eyes wide.

Jester looks up too, but she doesn’t see anything. “Beau? Is something wrong?”

Beau looks at the sky again and then shakes her head. “Nah, I just thought I saw— must have been a seagull or something.” She reaches out and squeezes Jester’s shoulder. “C’mon, let’s go.”

————————

“I probably—should have m-m-mentioned that citrus fruits are— better for practicing on. Thicker skins. Last longer.” Orly peers at Jester’s practice work with a critical eye. They’re in the captain’s quarters of the _Ball Eater_, and Jester feels a weird nostalgia being here. The ship holds a lot of memories.

“Yeah, I figured that out after a little bit,” Jester says, frowning at the apples in their various states of decomposition. “But they don’t even have _oranges_ as far north as we were. Lots of moss. And mushrooms. You can’t tattoo a mushroom though.”

“N-no, I suppose— you can’t.” Orly picks up a scrap of pigskin. “These are—better. Your lines are—quite clean. You’re—coming along.”

Jester breathes out a sigh of relief. “Well, I’ve been practicing a _lot_.”

“You really have been,” Beau says from beside her. “I swear all I’ve seen you do lately is eat, sleep, and tattoo whatever came into your hands.”

“Well I don’t want to mess it up! This is really important!”

Orly chuckles. “It can—take you like that— sometimes. Especially if you’re in l—l—“ He gives Jester a look. “Hmmm, you don’t— want to hear an old tortle ramble on. So— the Wildmother. The Captain—decided to give up the snake.”

“He did,” Jester says proudly. “Threw his sword into lava and everything.”

“Good to hear— the Captain has done— some growing. N-nothing good comes— from the dark depths. Especially n-nothing with— that m-many eyes. M-Melora though, I think she’ll— be good for him.” A smile crosses his face, slow as sunset. “N-now, you said you brought gem dust?”

It’s a few hours before sunset when Beau and Jester finally walk back down the gangplank of the _Ball Eater_. They had paid for Orly’s time in platinum, a portion of the magical tattoo ink he had taught Jester how to make, and cupcakes, and Jester considers it a bargain. She has two small pots of tattoo ink tucked carefully into her bag, one glittering black, and one a glistening red that would be beautiful if it didn’t make Jester think about blood and ice. She also has notes and tips from Orly, and she’s promised to bring Fjord by next time she has an opportunity so that she can show off her work.

“This is so cool,” Beau says for the hundredth time as she cranes her neck to look at the cascade of snowflakes and stars glittering from her shoulder down to the middle of her bicep. Orly had done the snowflakes and Jester, true to her word, had done the stars. They’ve reached the path that leads down to the beach, and Jester takes off her shoes so she can enjoy the feeling of her toes in the sand.

“You’re going to fall over if you keep doing that,” Jester admonishes, but she’s grinning.

Beau laughs. “I’m a monk, I’m as graceful as— fuck!” The last word is a shout as she slips and falls in the sand, but she still chuckles as Jester hauls her back to her feet. “Still worth it. Hey, is that Caleb? CALEB! CALEB COME SEE MY SWEET TATTOO!”

A minute later they are all sitting together in the sand, Caleb marking his place in his book with one finger as he inspects Beau’s tattoo.

“That is very nice work,” Caleb says, then looks at Jester. “Did you get a tattoo as well?”

Jester shakes her head. “I mean, I keep thinking about it, I definitely want _something _done, I just don’t know what.” She looks at Caleb. “Would you like a tattoo, Caleb? I could design you something really cool I bet.”

“I uh—“ Caleb’s hands go to his arms, lightly scratching at the faint scars there. “I do not know. Maybe. Someday.”

Jester wants to cover Caleb’s scars with flowers, as if the ink would cover up his sad memories. She doesn’t push him though. Instead she lays back in the sand and basks in the warmth of the sun and her friends.

——————

“I know you have not been gone very long, but please, tell me everything,” Jester’s mother implores them all after dinner, her eyes shining. “I do so love hearing your stories.”

They tell her everything about the ghosts Jester read smut to, about the Kiln and the Dust Family, about Fjord and how he had thrown away his sword, rejected his patron, and started using his real voice.

Marion nods sagely. “It is a brave man who can cast aside power when it holds him back from his true self.”

“And then your daughter killed two monstrous worms that came out of the snow while we were traveling north,” Caleb continues.

“I still can’t believe I missed that first death,” Beau says. “Jester _finally_ got angry and I didn’t get to see it!”

“Well, you were kind of being dragged underground by a _giant_ worm, Beau. That’s why I was angry! I was a great big mammoth and I couldn’t go rescue you, so I had to do _something._ And then that other worm-thing went and swallowed Caduceus and I wasn’t going to let that thing try to take _another_ of my friends!”

Marion chuckles softly. “That is a lesson for all of you. Lavorre women are slow to anger, but when it happens, it is truly a sight!” Then she blinks. “Wait, Jester, did you say you were a mammoth?”

They keep talking, Beau and Nott acting out their race up the tree, Jester and Caleb talking about the city of Uthodurn, Jester going on about cupcakes while Beau talked about Deilen, Umagorn’s assistant. When they get to the part about the white dragon, Jester expects to feel the panic and fear rise up in her throat again. It does a little, but just a little. The story ends happily after all, even if it almost hadn’t.

“I always worry whenever Jester is away,” her mother says when they finish. “I am a mother, I cannot help it.”

Jester sees Nott nod out of the corner of her eye.

“And you tell me these stories about fearsome creatures, and you think it would make me more afraid. And maybe it does, a little, but they also give me hope. Because the stories you tell are also about how you take care of my daughter, and how she takes care of all of you, and then, even though I am afraid, I am also proud, not just of my little girl, but of you. All of you.”

The hug Jester’s mother sweeps them into is almost as warm as the Wildmother’s sunlight.

—————————

Fjord is laying on a table in the main room of the Kiln, his bedroll underneath him to make the experience a little more comfortable, his bare chest lightly marked with the design Jester has been practicing over and over again. The main body of the crook will cover the scar on Fjord’s chest, a scar that Jester still doesn’t know the origin of.

Both Fjord and Caduceus had insisted that this tattooing take place in the heart of the sanctum, and Jester understands their reasoning. It’s like something out of a tale that bards tell. The re-forging of a sword while the future bearer of that sword is being marked with a symbol of the goddess he wants to find favor with…

“Jester?” Fjord smiles up at her. “Having a daydream?”

“Well I have to get them all out of the way before I start,” Jester tells him. “I don’t want to get distracted while I’m tattooing and then whoops you have a dick on your chest forever.”

Fjord laughs. “Yes please, let’s not let that happen.”

“Okay, so before we start, do you need to pee or anything?”

“Ah, no, all set on that account.”

“Well tell me if you need to do that. Or if you’re feeling faint, or it hurts too much, or you get thirsty, or hungry, or if you’re going to sneeze—“

“Tell you if I need to do anything, got it,” Fjord teases. He’s nervous too, Jester can tell.

“But also only talk if you have to, at least while I get started? This is kinda complicated and I’ve only practiced this design on you know, pig skin and fruit.” She had taken some oranges back from Nicodranas with her for tattoo practice, to Caduceus’s utter delight.

“I doubt I’ll be very talkative,” Fjord says. “But I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Okay! Okay. I guess— it’s time to start.” She turns towards the table with her instruments and inks on it and is stopped by Fjord’s hand on her arm.

“Jessie? It’s okay to be nervous. I’m nervous too.” He gives a nervous chuckle. “I mean, we’ve gone through all this trouble to get the sword reforged and I’m getting the Wildmother’s symbol put on me and she hasn’t even _chosen _me.”

Jester remembers the way the goddess had looked at Fjord before his resurrection, how gentle she had been when she had bent down to kiss him. In Jester’s mind, she’s sure Fjord has nothing to be worried about, and she’d say that, but he’s still speaking.

“But this isn’t just about me, it’s about you too. You’re a part of the reason I threw that sword away. A big part, if I’m being honest with myself.”

“Me?” Jester thinks back to that night. “All I did was talk to Vandren for you and— tell you I’d do anything to help you get free of Uk’otoa. But you did that yourself.”

Fjord half sits up, shaking his head. “No, not by myself. If I hadn’t met you all those months ago, if I hadn’t met the others, things would have ended up very differently for me, I think. And that night—that night.” He taps the scar on his chest. “I woke up from one of _his_ dreams with my powers gone and I came out here. I stood by the lava and put the sword to my chest and demanded my powers back. I told him that he needed me more than I needed him. And when nothing happened, I started pushing the sword into my chest.”

“Fjord!” It would be a shout, but it comes out as a horrified whisper.

“I know!” Fjord says, holding his hands up in defense. “I know! It was stupid, and I _knew_ it was stupid, and I kept pushing the blade in until there were only two options. I could take the blade out or keep pushing it in. So I took it out, because to keep going, that was never an option really. I took out the sword and held it over the lava and threatened him one last time, and when nothing happened I had two choices again. I could lower the sword and submit. Or, I could let it go. I thought of what you had told me about Vandren. He was living somewhere nice. He sounded _fine. _He was living his life. I thought about how _sure_ you had been that you and me could find a way out of this together. You and Caduceus both had so much faith in me. I thought maybe it was time to have a little faith in myself, in my own choices. So I let it go. I let the facade fall away. And you were there for me. All of you.”

Jester frantically starts wiping away her tears. “No fair making me cry. Now your tattoo is going to end up all wobbly.”

Fjord chuckles softly and reaches up to wipe away a tear from her cheek. “It’s going to look great,” Fjord says. “I trust you. Always have.”

“That’s not actually helping with the crying,” Jester says, but she says it with a smile on her face.

Fjord winces when the needles first hits his skin, but he’s quiet after that, his eyes trained on the roof of the cavern. Jester had worried that the sounds of the hammer on the anvil or the sword being quenched would be a distraction, but after a few minutes the sounds become a distant thing. It’s just like when she’s drawing or painting, when her whole world becomes about colors or lines. Slowly the outline of the shepherd’s crook appears, the length of the staff running the length of his scar. Next is the stalks of wheat, bent into a wreath, and that takes more time, but not as much time as she knows the vines will take.

“Fjord?” She asks before she starts on the vines. “Are you doing okay?”

His eyes slide over to hers and he grins. “I’m good. Like, really good. It hurt at first but now—it still hurts, but it’s kind of nice.”

“Beau said something like that too, when she was getting tattooed! That it was a good kind of hurt.” She wipes off the blood that’s beaded up as she’s been working. When the tattoo is finished she’ll heal it up, Orly had told her it’d be easier that way, less taxing on the skin. “Here, drink some water. We’ll take another break before I do the coloring part, unless you need one sooner, okay?”

“Okay,” Fjord gives her another grin and she returns it.

The vines take longer, with all their tiny leaves, and she has to shake cramps from her hands several times as she works. Then it’s the fine details, and she doesn’t realize she’s hunching over until the ache in her shoulders starts up.

“Oh that can’t be good for your back.” Caduceus’s gentle voice, while sudden, isn’t startling, and neither is the hand between her shoulder blades and the sensation of magic easing her muscles.

Jester straightens without pain as she lets out a relieved sigh. “Thank you, Caduceus.”

“Think nothing of it,” he says easily. “I made lunch a while ago. You two should eat, you’ve been at it for several hours, by what Caleb tells me.”

“I’m almost done with this part,” Jester says. “Five more minutes.”

“Sure,” Caduceus agrees. “Oh, that’s looking nice. Really nice. Fjord, how are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” Fjord says, and though Jester isn’t looking, she can hear him grinning. “Just fiiine.”

Caduceus chuckles softly. “Brains are weird, aren’t they? It’s great. Sometimes pain is just pain, and sometimes it becomes something else entirely. It’s all about context.”

Five minutes turns into twenty, but the extra time taken was more than worth it, Jester thinks as she eats a slice of orange, her practice fruit not going to waste. She looks at Fjord, who has sort of half rolled onto his side, also eating an orange. He keeps staring at his chest.

“Does it look okay?”

“Jess, it looks— I can’t believe it’s actually _on _me.” His hand hovers over it, just like when he had first seen the design in her sketchbook. “It’s amazing.”

Jester feels herself blushing. “Well, it’s not done yet. I still have to do all the coloring, which is the best part really.”

Fjord smiles and then wince, shifting a little. “How much longer, do you think? The pain is becoming— a little less fun.”

“We could stop for the day,” Jester says immediately, but Fjord shakes his head.

“No, not unless youneed to. Are _you_ all right?”

“Oh I’m fine,” Jester says, and it’s not even a half truth. She feels good, like she does when she’s doing a drawing or a painting and it’s going really well. “So you really want to get this all done today. We’d better get going then!” She gives him a stern look. “But you _will_ tell me if it hurts too much.”

“I promise.”

Jester has loved coloring ever since she was small, and just because she’s gotten older doesn’t mean that the feeling has changed. She loses herself in it, in shading the browns on the staff, of coloring the individual grains of wheat a golden yellow. The coloring of the leaves had been a little tricky, since Fjord’s skin was already green, but she had managed through several attempts to mix a green that was light enough to contrast with his skin without looking too yellow, an almost exact match of the color of new leaves in spring.

She leaves the berries for last, and as she cleans her needles and dips them into the shimmering red ink, she feels— something. Part of it is anticipation, the excitement of being almost finished, but there’s something else she’s feeling too, something she can’t put her finger on. Suddenly what she’s doing seems very—big. Something more than just ink on skin. She had been thinking about this as a project, and it _is_, but it’s more than that. As she listens to the clang of hammer against metal in the background, the tap of metal against flesh as she applies ink to skin, suddenly she gets it. The act of creating, whether it be art or weapons, is sacred. This is just like when she draws pictures for the Traveler, only more so.

“Keep him safe,” Jester whispers as she finishes the last cluster of berries. She whispers it to the ink, to the art on Fjord’s skin, to whomever is listening. “Make him as strong as I know he is, and keep him safe.”

For a moment time she swears that the ink of Fjord’s tattoo glows, that the smell of hot metal and ink and sweat is replaced with the smell of salt air, of honeysuckle and roses, the heat of the Kiln replaced with the gentle warmth of sunlight, an ocean breeze cooling the sweat on the back of her neck. It’s not words that come to her then, but it’s _like_ words.

_“I will do my best.”_

Then the feeling is gone, and Jester is looking down at Fjord’s chest, at a finished tattoo fully healed, no traces of blood in sight.

“It’s done,” both Jester and Fjord say at once, and Jester feels herself grinning wide enough to split her face, sees Fjord’s expression mirroring her own. He looks at the tattoo for a moment, and thenhe’s looking at her. There’s gratitude there in his eyes, but there’s more than that, so much more.

They both move at once, their lips meeting as gently as water sliding along sand. Jester remembers her confusion after their time on the island, wondering if their kiss in the temple, when she had been drowning and Fjord had saved her, had counted as their first kiss. She had wanted it to count, but she also hadn’t, because Fjord hadn’t been acting like himself during that time when they were pirates, hadn’t hardly at all been like that nervous, funny, sweet man she had met all those months ago. Whether that kiss had counted as her first or not seems unimportant now. She’s here, kissing Fjord, the real Fjord, and he’s kissing her back, and his fingers are in her hair and her arms are around his neck—

“It’s just like those books Jester reads,” Jester hears Nott say from behind her. “And then Oskar took Guinevere into his masculine arms—

“Let them be, Nott,” Caleb says softly.

“Sorry,” Caduceus says apologetically. “There was only so long I could distract everybody.”

Jester looks up to see everyone standing a little distance away. Nott is grinning next to Caleb, who offers his own little smile when he realizes Jester is looking. Beau is grinning and giving a double thumbs up to the two of them as Caduceus offers a sheepish smile.

Jester looks back at Fjord, who is blushing furiously. “Do you want to be shown off, or do you want me to banish them? I mean, I can only banish one of them at a time, and they’ll only be gone a minute.”

“We _can_ hear you,” Nott says.

“We can leave if ahhh, you want to get back to what you were doing,” Caleb adds.

“This is basically a temple, right?” Beau asks. “Caduceus, is kissing in a temple sacrilegious or something?”

“Well no, not that I’m aware of. Even outside of marriage ceremonies there are several rituals that can involve kissing, not to mention the welcoming of Spring. I’ve never seen it done, of course, but I’ve heard stories where the participants all—“

“They’re just going to keep going, aren’t they?” Fjord whispers.

“Sounds like it,” Jester whispers back. She’s still grinning. So is he.

Minutes from now, Fjord will get up and show off his tattoo, and Jester will blush herself purple from the compliments she receives. Hours from now, the sword will be finished as well, the blade shining as silver as the moon. When Fjord lays his hands upon it there will be magic and miracles. He will become more than he was, and also more of what he already _is,_ as the Wildmother bestows her blessing upon him. But now? Now, Jester and Fjord kiss again, and that is all the magic they need.

**Author's Note:**

> So tattooing fruit for practice is indeed a thing! (Tattooing apples not so much, at least not the way Jester does it) So is tattooing pig skin, though they have synthetic skin for that kind of thing now.
> 
> The spell Caduceus uses is Divine Intervention, a level 10 spell, because I figure killing a white dragon would level a person to that point. Also rule of cool and all.
> 
> Now I'm off to watch the latest episode, I've heard the guest star's character is just fantastic! Excited!


End file.
